


I Look Upon These Hands of Mine, Stained

by Archaema



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Pharmercy, Talon!Mercy, Talon!Pharah, Talon!Pharmercy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-24 22:25:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16184411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archaema/pseuds/Archaema
Summary: Sometimes, faith in the world and institutions is unrewarded.Sometimes, the world pushes too far.Sometimes, even the most stalwart snap.Your friends and your enemies are shown to be different than who you thought they were, and things must change.





	I Look Upon These Hands of Mine, Stained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Visiting the past.

“For you, _ya amar_.” Pharah spoke from a cloud of glowing embers, floating pinpoints of harsh orange illuminating her dark skin. Bruises, smudges of ash, and blood marked her. “I will do anything.”

“I-“ Mercy looked up at Pharah, her broken Caduceus staff sputtering sparks reflected in determined blue eyes. “I understand.”

*** * * * ***

A steady rain fell on Zurich and its outskirts, a droll end to a dreary day. Pleasantly warm, it was effectively dark with the clouds looming above. The ruins of what had once been the Overwatch Headquarters had become a memorial, with a scattered few statues and monuments still standing despite years of neglect.

The rainy night found a small group of uniformed soldiers in red and black stalking through the wreckage of a past life.

“What is it again we’re looking for?” The question came from one of the people in back. Pharah’s armor was sleek and black, with exhausts that held a faint, fading red glow as the propulsion units idled with near silence.

“Something that belonged to Jack,” came the reply. Angela, hair as golden as ever even in the gloom, protected herself with what appeared to be an evolution of her Valkyrie suit, with red tabard and highlights, fading to orange. “I’d be surprised if he forgot it, but it’s the only lead we have on the Denver labs.” She let out an annoyed huff. “He spent a lot of time being open, and the one time he tries to be sneaky, it’s a pain in the ass for all of us.”

“I bet that pissed off Gabe something fierce,” Pharah replied, switching off the red-glowing visor that covered her upper face; the dying light gave brief illumination to her tattoo, her udjat that symbolized her path as a protector. A path that was deeply conflicted. “So you think this is just a waste of time too, Angela?”

“Probably, but it’s better than being penned inside the barracks for another month. Honestly, why deploy us, of all people, to a facility with that much bad weather?” There was an annoyed bitterness in her voice, as she crossed her arms and paused, channeling her irritation. She kicked a small, broken piece of memorabilia out of her path; a small medallion that was half an Overwatch logo.

“We had to lay low for a little bit.” Fareeha sighed and shrugged. “So we could get our cover and go back to Overwatch.”

“I know, Fareeha; it was my plan, after all.” Angela paused as she reached a particularly jagged group of cement chunks, with rebar sheared off at the tops, poking through. She let out a frustrated huff. “Sorry, it’s just… ugh.”

“I think you just want to make a show of pretending to barely know each other, and use it as an excuse to have a few dates in our off time.” Fareeha smirked as she looked over her shoulder, throwing a sly wink to Angela. “Oh, and the sneaking around to snog.”

“I assure you I fully analyzed the benefits of this mission,” Angela replied, chin up haughtily in the air. “If I get to eat out a few times, I will consider it a success.”

“We don’t need an elaborate plan for eating out, if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll hold you to that when we get back.” She leaned down and gestured at one of the pieces of concrete, it’s slender length propping up several other pieces of debris. “There was an access stairway that should be here. It led to the service elevator. Can you get these out of the way?”

Fareeha gave a go-ahead motion with her hand, and four of the agents with them rushed over, beginning to lift the pieces and set them aside.

“What did Sombra say she was doing to their drone security? All soap operas or something?” Fareeha seemed amused, smirk on her face as she watched the soldiers work.

“Very dramatic, yes,” Angela replied. “I’m sure the security will be quite confused and more inclined to consider it a software issue than a hack.”

“She’s a clever one. I still owe her, unfortunately.”

“Why you took pictures of us on your mobile I-“ Angela gave a wry grin, then laughed, unable to finish her statement. “Yes, ok, I understand why, but we should have known better with her around.”

“She was very complimentary, at least.”

“Oh yes, flattering indeed, but I prefer those words coming from you.”

“I’d love to flatter you a bit more, but-“ Fareeha waved at the agents as they shifted the last piece. It made noise, but it was quieter than she had expected. A beaten and dented metal panel lay at the newly excavated point, a faintly flickering blue light in one corner showing a hint of power. “Back to business.”

“Lovely. I’d like to be in and out as quickly as possible. I do not associate this place with pleasant memories.” Angela stepped forward and knelt beside it, chewing on her bottom lip for a moment as she searched.

“I’m amazed. The backup power is still there?” Fareeha stepped up slowly beside her, looking down as she hopped onto one of the chunks as a makeshift seat.

“The first reactor was public. The other two weren’t,” Angela replied with a shrug. “To be fair, I only knew about the first back up until the file I received before we left.”

“Better to take a doctor’s research than tell her anything, I suppose.” Fareeha’s words were under her breath, but not meant to be secret.

“Quite.” The blonde sneered for a moment and pulled her glove free from her suit. She placed her fair-skinned palm to a dusty panel, brushing it off. It was cracked, but not severely, and the motion caused a soft beep. There was no other queue, but Angela gave an amused shrug and laid her hand down on it.

There was a metallic grinding sound, the unpleasant screech echoing through the ruins of the old headquarters. The rain dampened it, but even with that buffer it was possible it would attract attention. Fareeha winced visibly as it continued for a moment, then ended with a quieter snap and hiss as the door opened the remainder of the way, dialing out like an iris.

“Some service stairway,” the Egyptian said, shaking her head. “At least it’s big enough to go in armored.”

“It was our headquarters, after all,” Angela replied, sliding forward to begin walking down the steps. “These areas are going to be new to you, so keep the squad close. I know where the secure archive room is, and the backup is below it. We’ll probably have to blow the door.”

“I think the team will be happy to follow your lead on that.” Fareeha followed her, the other agents trailing along behind. Two at the rear of the group posted guard just within, to wait and watch for any unwelcome company.

They descended into the ill-lit halls, the flickering of blue emergency lights still casting a ghostly pallor through the halls. Dust lingered in the air, swirling as they passed. In some remote part in the back of her mind, Angela wondered if the ghosts of the past might materialize and leap out at them as they explored, but simply had to shake her head and push it away, murmuring about superstition quietly to herself.

The old hall was long; it had been a secure access, with specific purpose that was kept off of maps. A full five minutes of walking brought them to a door, a soft red glow from its panels indicating its locked state.

“Well, I hope this still works,” Fareeha said, as she stood beside Angela. She lifted her wrist, and gave a mental cue to the armor’s AI system.

“Authorization: Reyes, STA-3434.” The voice emanated from her armor’s wrist, a perfect imitation of Gabriel’s voice, if stretched and burned from whatever had finished the work of turning the former black ops commander into the wraith he existed as.

“Accepted.” The system voice was hollow and quiet, but the acquiescence heralded the hesitant parting of the door, splitting apart and pulling away in four directions to reveal a slightly brighter room beyond.

“Reactor 2,” Angela said, stepping into the room. “The control room across the hall should have access to the Reactor 3 elevator.” She brusquely crossed the room, only sparing a momentary glare up at the large metal and ceramic shell of the power system. The lights on the reactor itself had long since been inactive, after it had shutdown.

“I’m wondering how many skeletons we’re going to find in the closet, if I’m honest,” Fareeha said, following behind her. It was a surreal feeling to see something that was unknown yet part of a place she had visited on multiple occasions in her youth. The design of the floor plating, the walls, they were a familiar pattern she would never forget.

They were abandoned, like her youth and the dreams she had fostered.

The next door opened with the same voice cue. Another hall greeted them, running to the right, but the door across from them was their goal. Repeated a third time, it slid open, and they entered the control room.

The door in the back corner looked like a simple janitorial access port. It was not as wide as the main doors, but as Reyes’s voice filled the air again, the opening reinforced door was three times the thickness of the other doors, and beyond it, a wide elevator awaited.

“This is as far as I’ve gone,” Angela said quietly. “Are you ready to go meet the ghosts?”

“As long as my mother isn’t down there,” Fareeha said with a smirk. “Let’s get this done. We’re on a schedule.”

“Of course, you’re quite right.” Angela stepped in, and Fareeha joined her along with two of their team. The other two stayed behind to cover them, and soon, there was a disgruntled whir of the elevator’s door closing and its motors kicking into gear.

“I can’t think of anything appropriate to say, honestly.” Fareeha broke the tense silence in the elevator after a moment of downward motion, the elevator’s speed no concern to she or Angela who were used to flying and descending rapidly. The two Talon agents were gripping the railing for dear life.

“Let’s just keep our minds on the task and get finished,” Angela said. “Jack’s files, and Dr. O’Deorain’s data drives. Get those, get out.”         

“It just seems anti-climactic at this point. I dunno, I was expecting someone to be here. Something to try and stop us.” Fareeha shrugged, armor creaking slightly. 

“Let’s not jinx it, ja?”

They felt the elevator slow, and then come to a halt. The door slid open, the aperture much larger than the entrance above that they had been forced to turn sideways to navigate.

Unlike the soft, emergency blues of the rest of the defunct base, the lights in the room were a haunting red, casting a sinister haze over everything they could see.  Another reactor housing, thrumming to the glow of its status lights, was set to the side, and a catwalk crossed over above. Stairs led up to it on the other side, and a pair of windows looked down on the room.

“It’ll be in the conference room up there, according to Gabriel,” Angela said. She wasted no time in approaching the steps, Fareeha simply hovering upward and around to land on the catwalk with a gentle thunk of her boots against the corrugated metal.

It was a spacious command room, the conference table to the side larger than either of them had expected. The chairs were still in place, a faint layer of dust on the leather upholstery, and in the corner, a coffee machine sat long unused. Strains of soft classical music filtered through the room from speakers set in the corner.

Overlooking the reactor room, in a similar comfortable chair, was a sight that caught their attention. Long since desiccated, an Overwatch uniform still covered the form of an agent.

“Trapped when the explosion occurred,” Fareeha murmured. She tilted her head a moment and shrugged. “Kept the music going. Classy way to go out, at least.”

“Not a fate I’m inclined to think about.” Angela frowned as she walked over, striding past the station to a door beside it. The door opened with a tap of her fingers on the still glowing pad beside it. The security was relaxed once in the forbidden section of the base, and she was thankful to not have to have Fareeha play the voice request again.

They stepped into an office, occupied by a single mahogany desk. Two filing cabinets sat in the corner, and a small refrigerator occupied the other corner. A painting hung on either wall, depicting the wide expanses of the American Southwest.

Crossing the black carpet, Angela headed for the desk and pulled out the chair behind it.

“Small switch under the drawer, and…” Her hand slid underneath the rim of the desk’s center, fingers tapping around. After a moment, there was a soft click. “Wonderful!” She pulled open the shallow drawer to look over the contents, as Fareeha came around to join her. She held a small black rucksack in her arms, which Angela gave a curious glance but shrugged away.

“Is that it?”

“Yep, simple as can be,” Angela answered as she picked up a small, rectangular box. “Try one of the drawers for the data cylinders.”

Fareeha gave a nod and started pulling them out slowly. The bottom drawer was a simple, felt-lined affair with four boxes. Each had hand-written labels. There was one labeled ‘O’Deorain’. She promptly picked it up and set it on top of the rucksack.

The one next to it gave her pause.

‘Amari.’

Fareeha took a slow breath that Angela caught immediately, glancing upward to her.

“It’s your choice,” she said quietly, compassion leaking into her voice. She did her best to push it down, but she always allowed some for the woman beside her, no matter how far gone she felt she had become.

There was a moment where her hand hovered above it, Fareeha clearly considering it, but then she closed her eyes and looked away with disgust.

It brought a small, odd huff of amusement from Angela.

“She’s going to be furious when she finds out this was willing.” Fareeha slid the drawer closed, but not before dropping a small device from her belt into it. Before it was even shut, the acrid smell of smoke had begun to rise.

Angela pulled herself close to Fareeha, and lifted her fingers to her cheek. In a gentle caress, they trailed down along the chest of her armor, testing the cool metal and promising to bypass it later.

“We’ll deal with that problem when it comes,” Angela said. “But none of them know how strong you really are, my beautiful falcon.”

“It goes for you too, _ya amar_ ,” Fareeha responded with a pleased half-grin. “With some luck no one will see us coming.”

“Well, not everyone is a voyeur, schatzli.” The retort earned a shared snerk of laughter from each of them. “We should go. It’s running late and we have a flight to catch.”

“Right.” Fareeha reached to her belt and pulled free a small, metal flask as they began to leave the office. As they passed the dead agent, she set it down on the desk.

It was a small gesture to the fallen, but she respected the dead deeply; much more, than the living.

A crackle-hiss came through their shared team channel as they exited the reactor room, breaking the solemn silence of their departure. It was unlikely anyone would ever be there again, a hint of sentimentality indulged in by the both of them. It urged them to move more quickly. Up the elevator they went, soon returning to the other control room.

“There’s a security team,” one of the Talon agents finally managed to convey, as the line grew clearer. “A helo, a couple of commandos. Should we engage?”

“No,” Angela said. “Take cover and don’t be seen, yet. We can give you cover to reach the jet.” She glanced at Fareeha with an eyebrow raised, seeking her assent.

“Wait three minutes, then go,” Fareeha affirmed.

“Understood,” was the quick reply. Ahead, they could hear the two who had come in with them returning to the front, and soon the duo had caught up to them.

“I’m somewhat disappointed I can’t try the new ordinance,” Fareeha said as they jogged the rest of the way through the old hallway. “Too distinctive, though.”

“It’s not been fire-tested yet, but this is too conspicuous a test site. I do so look forward to seeing it, though.”

“You know how I hate to disappoint you.”

“You never disappoint me.”

“Aw, so sweet of you to think so.” Fareeha let a laugh out as they came to the access hatch. They could hear the blades of the helicopter above the rain, though they were muted. It surprised her that they would fly in such weather; something had to have tipped them off that there was something amiss.

“Do you think Sombra is having a laugh at our expense?” Angela rubbed her incisor with her tongue in contemplation as she looked upward.

“Oh, maybe,” Fareeha said. “I don’t care; if this is all they sent, they aren’t a serious threat, and that means if she told them, it’s either a test or a joke.”

“Those both sound like her.”

“Well, would you like to come with, or should I handle this?”

“Mm, they probably have video capabilities, so we should do this fast. Lure them away, then I’ll deal with them.”

“Sounds delightful. A little tease and then a surprise.”

The engines on Fareeha’s suit hissed to life, far quieter than her old Raptora’s had been, and she was in the sky, her red visor reformed and shielding her face from the steady shower.

“It’s all responding so well, even in the bad weather,” she murmured.

“I’ll be sure to pass that along,” Angela said.

“I’ll join you, this is fantastic!” The crimson glow of the exhausts caught the attention of the helicopter. It shifted and turned, and as Pharah began to ‘flee’ from it, it angled its rotor into pursuit. The black vehicle was sleek, more visible from the rainwater against it than its actual body.

But Pharah was faster.

She held back on her throttle, for the danger of too much speed to be followed would do little good. She wanted to be far enough to be unidentifiable, but close enough for…

The side door on the helicopter opened without the slightest hint of warning. Chilly, rushing wind swirled into the cabin, as a quartet of opaque visors turned to face the inexplicable appearance of Mercy, or at least the memory of who had been Mercy, set foot on board. The black of her outfit matched the night, leaving only a red and orange ghost with a pale face looking over them slowly.

Brilliant blue eyes, a scar set in below one, seemed amused in their judgment of the group. Some reached for knives, some for pistols, one for a rifle. She smirked. Her blaster was quiet as she calmly switched from one to the next, speed that seemed unattainable to a normal human guiding her aim.

Yet the pilots could not look back easily, as they saw the dim red dot of Pharah turning in a wide arc, as if to double back toward them.

“I know you’re afraid,” Angela said, as she put a hand on the shoulder of the co-pilot’s seat, casually pushing one of the bodies out of the door to get there. “That’s hardly necessary.” She had replaced her pistol with a surgical knife. It was precise. “I’m not barbaric, I won’t let it hurt.”

The pilot scrambled, trying for the buckles on their harness, to a sigh of irritation from Angela.

“What did I just say? I do not want things to get messy when I’m working.”

A few moments later, the helicopter settled to the ground quietly. Rain slid in sheets down the canopy and body as it sat motionless, blades quieting as it perched on the rubble of an old dais. A quiet growl of turbines heralded Pharah’s landing beside it.

“Let’s see how long this takes for them to figure out,” Fareeha said, the smug grin evident even without Angela seeing most of her face.

“Nothing traceable, as we decided beforehand.” Angela had hopped down to the ground, and strode confidently to Pharah, her smirk clearly displayed for her lover to see.

“Nothing messy when you’re working. That does not sound like the Angela I know,” Fareeha said, her rocket launcher casually leaning against her shoulder.

“When I am working, yes,” Angela said, lifting a finger to slip under the visor of Fareeha’s armor and touch her lips. “I said nothing about during our off time.” It earned a light kiss to her fingertip, and she pushed into it, feeling Fareeha’s tongue teasingly glide across the digit.

“We have a long flight. Does that count as off time?”

“Why yes,” Angela said. “I do believe it does.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've wanted to explore Pharmercy in a world where things did not remain just or honorable, where they were pushed too far and dragged, and where their patience and goodness would snap. What would become of this couple like that?
> 
> Next chapters will have some Moira and Spiderbyte, because they're all awesome. A few others will make appearances, too, but they're the important ones.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let us know if you liked our writing, and feel free to leave any constructive criticism in comments here or in asks at our tumblrs, including if you spy a missing tag:  
> http://archaema.tumblr.com/ (NSFW http://shadysuccubus.tumblr.com/)  
> http://offkeelworld.tumbr.com/


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